Ebony and Ivory
by ThexBlairxWitch
Summary: Everyone remembers when the flock broke a band of mutants out of the Institute. But what happens when one of these mutants decides that she wants to stay with the flock? Rated T, just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Who knows how long it's been since they last took me from this little box? I certainly had no idea; I lacked the concept of passing time. I only got a sense of the eternal, onmarching seconds when they took me to be tested. Which had been less and less, these days.

Maybe it was because of that time that I had used my ability to half-knowingly inflict torture upon one of the men in the long white coats. It was a new ability, one only recently discovered despite my long 14 or so years in this institution, and I didn't think it could possible be so powerful. All I had wanted to do was show him how much pain they routinely put me in. My one look had him writing on the floor, clutching at his body. And so they shut me in here, as punishment, maybe. To teach me a lesson.

Now, I only saw light when they drew back the curtain. I could only look at them when they came for one of the sufferers adjacent to me, another of the mostly human creatures who never spoke going to be tested or even terminated and never seen again. They only looked at me, down their noses more often than not, in accidental glances, and occasionally superior sneers, musing about why I still had my life to call my own when there was no more use for me. Unbeknownst to them, I heard all their muttering, their whispering, with my ears, my ears that they debated operating on the way they had my eyes, so long ago. They spoke scathingly of others. Others who should be dead, but who had escaped their deaths and were running from – fighting against – fate. It made me want to scream, the curiosity, hurl the idea "_What_ others!!!" into their brains, until their skulls burst into shards too small for them to staple, stitch, and fuse back together. But I never once did. I controlled myself, contented myself with thoughts of the others, imaginings and dreams of the others, in both wakefulness and sleep. I hoped, for their sakes, that they won against the fate that the white coats and the wolf men – 'Erasers' – so determinedly pressed on them. No one deserved that fate. Except for, apparently, this entire room of genetic mistakes. Which included me.

I knew I was to die soon. The memory was burned into my mind, as clear as anything. The one young man, his curly hair unkempt and his glasses askew, had inched fearfully toward me, holding a placard in one trembling hand. In a glance I had known what it was: my extermination date. I had seen placards like this many times before, in others' hands, placed atop another cage. Always, always, the cage's inhabitant was taken away a short time later, never to return. Instead, the empty cage was filled with some new young one, grotesquely deformed, sometimes barely breathing. And so I knew when I read the date that I was slated to die, without any idea of how much empty time I had left.

I remembered, briefly but painfully, the time it had happened to another of the children, who had been similar in genetic makeup to me. A girl, supposedly a few years younger than me, had shared a dog crate adjacent to mine. From what I had seen of her identity card, her name was Starling. The white coats had often tested us together. She had been the closest thing I had to a friend all my pitiful life. Then they had set a placard atop her crate, and I woke a while later to find her gone.

There were more like me in this room, one named Sparrow and another named Smoke. But Smoke was far too young to comprehend anything, and Sparrow's fragile mind hand begun to crack long ago.

So. Yesh. I'm kinda a lazy ass when it comes down to fanfics. But I don't mind. Um, nothing's really happened yet, but it sorta begins more in the next chapter. This is almost like a prologue. Being my first published thingy, reviews are appreciated. Thanks everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

**Ooo, I forgot to add this last time: I do not own any flying bird kids or their books (no matter how much I would like to). Everything is copyrighted to James Patterson, except for my character and any thoughts of hers or interactions between her and others. **

Time passed, on and on. I rubbed one of the scars on my arm without thinking. Maybe I would be killed peacefully, painlessly. Or maybe they'd send a horde of Erasers in after me in an enclosed space.

The curtain opened. I steeled myself, turning away and huddling in the farthest corner of the cage, then unfurling my wings and wrapping them around me like a cloak, hiding most of my body from view.

Then the glass wall opened. I heard feed, pattering quietly in different directions. They moved more quickly than usual, almost too fast for average humans. One, two three… four… five? There may have been a sixth, but he or she was on the other side of the room, and I could barely hear him/her breathing.

Three sets of feet were nearing me. I drew back farther into my corner. The breathing from the newcomers was growing ragged.

"This is pathetic," someone whispered from a ways away.

A different voice came. "Hi, doggie. Hi, little doggie. You look like Toto. From _The Wizard of Oz_?"

A pair of feet moved closer. It was in front of Smoke's crate. Another pair followed it.

"You know, we can't save them _all_." It was the one who had spoken first.

"I'm supposed to save the world, remember? Well, I'm gonna start with these guys." This was a new voice. "Start popping latches." The owner of the voice clicked open Smoke's crate. "Get ready to run. We're getting you out of here."

Many of the others had woken. I heard the movement of restless creatures, and the noises that burbled from their throats. The idea hit me then: what if these were the others? The others who had escaped, who were free? I was afraid to hope.

The talkative voice had reached Sparrow's cage, two down from mine.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Trust Sparrow to _ask_ her rescuer why she was being freed.

"Kids don't belong in cages," came the reply. Boy, did that sum up _my _world view in a nutshell.

Suddenly there was a figure in front of my cage. She unlocked it and opened the door, then turned and called, "Okay, everybody. Let's blow this joint."

I unfolded my limbs and swept out, following my savior closely. It was a tall female that had handed me the first thread of my freedom. Never was I more aware of my nudity than now, moving quietly behind this commanding girl. This awareness only increased when I caught sight of the three fully clothed boys. I wondered what it could possibly be like to wear clothes, to have fabric in constant contact with my skin. It was hard to imagine.

"This way! Don't be afraid," said a slightly younger girl.

"I hear voices," the tallest of the group spoke up. "Be _very _afraid." I heard them too, and shuddered. It sounded as if the newly arrived Eraser, the one people called Ari, was anticipating – no, expecting – a good fight as he barreled through hallways, closer and closer to the room.

"Let's move it!" commanded the oldest girl. "Nudge! Fang! Angel! Out, out, out!"

Everyone started moving in a big mass toward an open door, and stumbling clumsily up through it. "Up the stairs!" the girl urged.

Finally, after long moments of rushing, the front of the group burst through another door, and everyone streamed out after them into a grimy, smelly, dark tunnel.

"Where are we?" Sparrow asked, clueless as usual. I cursed her in my head for always stopping to ask questions at the worst possible moments, but kept my thoughts to myself. The warm, sticky air made my skin crawl uncomfortably.

"Sewer system, under a big city." Ah, that explained it. "On our way out to fresh air and sunlight."

**Yes, I know I suck at dividing up chapters. Just think of it as a cliffhanger, I guess. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. Glad you're reading. Here's the next chapter (I already had it typed up, I was just too lazy to post it). And again, unfortunately, I own nothing but the character I made and any of her thoughts and interactions.**

**Fang: Thank God. **

**Ryuu (me for now): *hits Fang over the head* Quiet, you. **

"But not just _yet_." The voice automatically sent shivers up and down my back, and I was _this_ close to leaping three feet in the air. "First we need to chat, Maximum. You and I. For old times' sake."

Of course, it was Ari. I hurried forward, silent in the shadows of the tunnel, eager to be away from him. When I stopped, I was close the dark one that I assumed was Fang. He didn't notice me; he was too busy eyeing Ari and Maximum, who were circling each other and, indeed, talking. She shooed us away with her hand, and it was all the beckoning most of us needed. Fang turned and started running, fast. Everyone hurried after him, but some started tiring quickly. Sparrow was keeping pace with me, holding Smoke in her arms, but when I stopped to collect some of the failing ones, she raced ahead. I picked up as many as I could, one or two in each hand, and even went so far as to let a few of the smaller ones cling to my back, which aggravated my wings to no end. But it still hurt my heart to see all the ones who couldn't go on for long. At least most of them would make it, with the older kids helping the young children as I was.

I dashed after Fang, drawing on reserves of strength I rarely used to keep up with all the extra weight. Right, another right, a straight shot for a while, left, then an immediate right, and all of a sudden we were out, blinking in harsh sunlight for the first time in our lives. I squinted; my delicate eyes couldn't take it. I set the children on the ground, herding them towards Sparrow, who was glancing around wildly. She made a move to leave once she was sure everyone had made it.

"Hang on," said Fang. "Stay here; we'll figure out something to do with you guys in a minute."

Sparrow shook her head frantically. "N-no. I'm not staying. I can't stay here. It's not safe." Fang rolled his eyes as she whirled and disappeared, taking the group with her. Then he turned and saw I was still there.

FANG'S POV

I ran, taking random turns, grimly desperate to escape this labyrinth. I could hear the echoes of the fight fading behind me, and the mutants running faithfully on my heels. I saw light coming up ahead (must have made a lucky turn somewhere) and led the group up into the air.

Many of them were gasping for breath. Not used to running for their lives, maybe? I gave a small, wry smile at this thought. As far as I could see, there were two winged children, one that was maybe ten and another closer to four. Then a third appeared, hauling five or so very young kids; I could barely see the rims of feather where her wins tucked into her back beneath three mutants. I looked at her critically. Her breathing was shallow, but even. She was maybe my age, a month or two older, perhaps. The long, almost black hair falling down her back did nothing to disguise her lack of clothes. She let the children down, pushed them nearer the group, and stood straight.

The younger bird girl was jerking her head around nervously. Just as she was about to leave, I said, "Hang on. Stay here; we'll figure out something to do with you guys in a minute."

She shook her head no, stubbornly refusing his help. Kind of like Max. "N-no. I'm not staying. I can't stay here. It's not safe." She hurried off, not taking another look at him, and the whole group followed her. I rolled my eyes; ridiculous females.

I turned back to the sewer tunnel to wait for Max and the others, hoping that they would all make it out okay. And then I saw the older bird girl, and realized she hadn't left with the rest. "You're not going with them?" She shook her head mulishly. I barked out a laugh. "You feel safe here, then?"

The girl hesitated, then stared at him. "Sparrow's lost the little of her sanity that she ever had," she told me bluntly. Her voice then adopted an air of sarcasm. "Besides, do you really think I'd feel safe _anywhere_? Look at what I am." She turned her back to him, pulled her hair from her neck, and shook her shoulders a little. I understood that she was about to show her wings to everyone in New York, and lurched forward to clamp my hands onto her shoulders, pressing the bones of her wings firmly back into their indentations.

I knew it was at the very least uncomfortable, and probably some degree of painful; her hissing intake of breath confirmed that. But other than that one reaction, she submitted, the way she no doubt had her whole life. My heart pulled a little at the thought of the kids who were stuck in the hands of the whitecoats, never to know a real life, instead being experimented on until they died. Just for scientific curiosity.

"Stop and think for a minute," I muttered to her. "You're in the middle of New York. People are looking at you already for you… well, lack of clothes. What would happen if you showed everyone here that you're a mutant? An intentionally created genetic experiment?" She didn't answer. "Sure, you could expose the scientists. But you'd have police, government officials, and zookeepers all over you. You'd be stuck on display, lose the little bit of freedom that you've only just gotten." Her muscles tensed under her skin, rippling iron cords that I didn't expect from someone who had lived in a crate for fourteen years. The movement highlighted satiny scars on certain areas of her skin; some neat, clean lines, others less so. One thick, rose-colored stripe ran jaggedly from the base of her neck to just underneath her left wing.

"My family and I are like you," I continued. "We've learned that there are rules to survival. Number one is that you don't show anyone else what you are unless you have no choice and your life is in danger." I let her go and stepped back.

She moved fast, fast, fast, whirling so that her hair whipped my cheek and holding a hand in front of my face. "Interesting logic. You don't go breaking your 'survival rules' whenever you meet someone new, do you? Or did you _really _think your life was in danger?" The girl clicked her fingernails next to my throat, her movements blurry until she came to a stop. I saw that her nails were more like talons: abnormally thick, curved though fairly short, and ending in lethal points. All this made me suddenly wonder if she might stand a chance against Max in a fight. In the meantime, I looked at her.

"I didn't think you'd be a threat, no. I saw no reason not to tell you. For now, we'll wait here for Max and the others."

She met my eyes steadily. Hers were a little unnerving. They were a brilliant icy white-blue, and, more than that, her pupils weren't average size. They were tiny, little black islands in half frozen oceans. Without saying a word, she backed a yard or so off, and turned halfway away.

**Okay, so there's that. I think the next chapter should be more interesting, and such. **

**Enjoyment! **


	4. Chapter 4

**And this time around, we get Max for a bit. Excitement lies in differences, children. Have fun.**

**Iggy: You forgot to tell them.**

**Ryuu: Then why don't you?**

**Iggy: Glad to. She *hooks thumb at me* doesn't own any of us – no matter how much she would like to – or any of the basic story plot except for her character and any of her thoughts and interactions.**

**Ryuu: See? Not so hard.**

**Iggy: *scowls* It's a mouthful. **

MAX'S POV

I braked with my wings, running to a stop when my feet hit the ground. Then I followed the others outside to where Fang was (hopefully) waiting.

He was standing there, with no more visible emotion than usual. But the look in his eyes told me that there was something important that he needed to talk to me, as leader of the flock about.

_Great_, I thought. _More stress to add to my Jeb-induced headache._

"Where are the other kids? The mutants?" I asked wearily. Ah, the responsibilities of being a world-saving freak.

"The girl with the wings took them. She didn't want to stay with us. Wouldn't take no for an answer," he replied, shrugging. "Sound like anyone you know?"  
I waved a hand at him. I wasn't in the mood to talk; it took all my concentration to forget about what had just happened and continue life.

"Just walk," I told them, limping a step forward. "Keep walking. Walk the walk."

"Uh, Max?" Fang said. "We have an – issue – that we should probably resolve before we go anywhere."

I turned to him, half curious, half vaguely suspicious, because I'm just angsty like that.

Everything turned to anger and confusion when I saw the bird girl trailing uncertainly behind him.

Ebony's POV

"Your 'issue' is a naked, winged girl?!" the leader, the girl named Max, snarled. Her voice wasn't loud, but the fury was still there. I flinched, knowing that fury was directed at me. Unlike Fang, something about her made me immediately uncomfortable.

The boy with the strawberry blond hair nudged the youngest boy curiously. The young one started muttering to him, explaining what was happening. I realized that the tall one couldn't see, and felt a pang of empathy. The youngest girl, her blonde hair in fuzzy cornrows, was looking at me thoughtfully.

"She didn't leave with the rest. Don't ask me why, but I don't think we should just leave her alone, in the middle of New York," I heard Fang reply evenly. Huh. He certainly was hard to faze.

Max looked past him, locking her gaze on me. I shifted awkwardly and looked away. She stalked up to me.

"What's your name?" she growled.

I gathered myself, then stared straight back into her eyes. "According to the ID card on my _cage_" – I spat the word hatefully – "they named me Ebony."

Max blinked. Guess people didn't generally react to her that way. Hey, points to me. "How old are you?" Her voice was less harsh now.

I shrugged. "Fourteen and a half or so, I guess. Give or take a month."

She looked at me for one more second, analyzing. Then she turned, and said, "Angel."

The little blonde girl came up, clutching a small winged teddy bear. How she managed to hang onto it everywhere she went, I had no clue. She smiled sweetly at me, and I smile doubtfully back. She was more nerve-wracking than Max; Max at least I could find respect for. I didn't know what Angel could do, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

I formed the idea in my head: mixing hope, wistfulness, and a good amount of that dang respect, adding a hint of confusion and some envy, and at the last second throwing in a bit of my well-veiled fear – fear of the whitecoats, the Erasers, the things they could do to me and the fact that they would want me back. Then I pushed it gently towards the girl, hoping that I hadn't overdone it and it wouldn't be too much for her small frame.

In that moment, her blue eyes widened and she staggered backward, clutching her bear. I gasped and reached a hand out as if to steady her, but Max was suddenly there, shielding her and snarling. Crap. I snarled back without thinking, and the entire flock backed away.

Max was just about to launch herself at me, but Angel managed to raise her head dazedly from Fang's arms. "It's all right, Max." Everyone froze, and Max rushed back to the little girl.

"What happened?" she asked frantically.

Angel smiled and stood. "She didn't do anything intentionally wrong. I guess she just _sent_ something to me and I wasn't ready. She wouldn't know about me."

Everyone turned and stare at me. I didn't meet anyone's gaze except Fang's, and even the look on his face made me avert my eyes back to the ground.

"You can read minds, too?"

**Oh snap. Oooooh, snap. Now what. Read to find out. Yes, this was short, I know. *bows* My apologies. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter. Thanks for your support, guys. I'll be trying to make these longer. **

**Nudge: Hey, people! Since she didn't tell you, I'll – **

**Ryuu: *claps hand over Nudge's mouth* No, no, it's okay! I'll say it! *deep breath* I don't own Maximum Ride, or his plot. I only own my character, Ebony, and her thoughts and interactions.**

**Nudge: *pouts* I wanted to say it.**

I looked up at her in alarm. "What? No, what are you talking about? I've never been able to read minds. Last time I checked, I still can't. Angel's right; all I do is send things."

"What kinds of things?" Still mistrustful.

"I dunno. Anything, I guess. I haven't done it much, but the range of things I have tried makes me doubt the idea of limitations."

She stood straight, her face blank. "Prove it."

I rolled my eyes. "All right, fine."

I thought for a moment. What could I give her? Not much, considering. If she was really like me, she definitely would not appreciate any of my memories, so that was out. Maybe I could use the same thing I had for Angel… yeah, that would have to do. So I concocted it again, and pushed it towards Max.

Her reaction was similar to Angel's, but on a much smaller scale. Eyes widening, stepping away from me, the whole nine yards.

"What…" Max managed. I waited. Eventually, she shook her head. "Fine," she snorted, "we'll see."

Glaring at first me, then Fang, she stalked to the nearest T-shirt vendor and purchased what looked like an XXXL. Stomping back, she chucked the shirt at me. I saw the wince on her face, but it disappeared in a second. The remnants of her fight with Ari, no doubt. I knew how she felt; he had had the joy of grinding me to a pulp on more than one occasion, whether I was allowed to fight back or not.

I unfolded the cloth, inspecting it curiously and feeling the fabric slide coarsely between my fingers. Then I slid it on. It fitted more like a dress than a shirt. The fabric made my skin twitch and jump. It didn't feel right, and it would definitely take some getting used to.

"Let's go," I heard Max say. When I looked up, she was marching away with only the slightest limp in her stride.

"Where are we going?" the red-headed boy asked curiously.

"Back to the secondhand store," came the reply. "This girl can't walk around in an oversize T-shirt."

One by one, they went along with her. Fang was last to go, and I was left standing uncertainly. Then he turned around expectantly, waiting, so I hurried forward.

I moved along, trailing slightly behind, not slow enough to make them wait, but not fast enough to really be walking with them. I stared at the huge buildings around me, and the hundreds of people walking by.

"Ebony?"

Once again, Fang was standing there expectantly. The flock was nowhere to be seen.

"Where'd they all go?" I asked. He pointed to a door we were standing next to.

I walked in and found max waiting. "Pick some things out. Anything you like, as long as it doesn't restrict movement or vision; pants are more practical than skirts."

"Understatement," the young brown-skinned girl muttered.

"I'll pay," Max finished shortly.

I wandered around the shop a while. When I came back to them, I had a whole new outfit. I was going with the rainbow and black theme: dark jeans made of stretch denim that fit close to my legs all the way past my ankles, a fitted T-shirt with a sort of plaid design (rainbow colors going one way, black going the other), and a black hooded zip-up jacket with different colored stars. I finished it off with a colorful pair of Nike sneakers. It was hard to believe this was all secondhand.

Max, seeing me, narrowed her eyes. Fang simply raised his eyebrows, Angel gave me that same little smile. The little boy and the other girl broke out grinning.

"What?" I asked. "I couldn't decide on colors. Black's a good one" – Fang nodded – "but I wanted another color and I didn't know which one."

"Whatever," Max sneered. "Let's hurry up and pay, then we can shove her into makeup."

I looked at her, but she turned and dragged me to the cashier, so I couldn't ask what she meant.

--- ---

I found out she was fairly serious about the makeup. The flock brought me to an insane looking makeover place.

"She should change her appearance," Max had reasoned, "because she was in the Institute until only recently, so they would know her face around here better. They might be looking for her even now." Fang had blinked in silent agreement, and now I was sitting in a cushioned chair, reclining back in a separate room to have my hair washed for the first time in who knows how long.

"So," the stylist chattered, looking down at me as she rubbed shampoo through my hair, "I like letting my customers have a bit of say. Have any ideas for, say, color? I've got the style down. With your hair, we have a lot of dye options."

"Um… I don't know. I can't decide between colors…" I mumbled.

She laughed. "As I can see! All right, we'll go with all of 'em."

My hair was rinsed, conditioned, and rinsed again. Then I was beckoned away from the sink and into another chair. The woman grabbed a brush, some weird looking scissors, and a blow dryer, and started snipping.

Within an hour, she had cut and styled my hair (she told me she was using a technique called 'carving' for my waves) into a pretty, kind of layered look. It was much shorter, too; where before the longest bits had hung down to my lower back, it now only reached three inches or so past my shoulders. It felt strange, lighter. And I had side-swept bangs, which kept falling in my face and making me feel like Fang.

At this point in time, she pulled out seven or so bottles of bright hair dye. "Are there any you don't like?" I shook my head. "Okay, then let's get started!"

I spent the next hour or so getting bleached and colored. Finally, she dried my hair one last time, and turned me to the mirror.

"Wow," I managed. "Thank you. That's very nice."

"Isn't it sweet?" she chimed. "You know? I've got another idea. Before we do makeup…" She went to the door and locked it, and my muscles tensed as I panicked.

"A client of mine the other day was going to get a little rainbow star tattooed on her cheekbone. I had everything set up and ready, then she backed out at the last minute. Honestly, I think it would look better on you; you have very nice cheekbones. I still have everything I need. I know I'm not supposed to give you a tattoo without parental permission, but this is a really unique opportunity, finding such a neat match between a design and a certain customer. Do you have the kind of parents that would really care?"

I shook my head. Um, hello? Is this beaker? Yes, may I speak to a test tube?

"All right." She smiled at me. "You don't mind, do you?"

I smiled back. "Not at all."

"Ok. Give me just a second to set up…" She zipped around the room in a little whirlwind, gathering items.

Eventually she had everything set up. I vaguely thought of Max, barely kept waiting for me instead of running off, and shook my hair out of my eyes for the hundredth time. She'd have to deal.

The only time I got really jumpy and agitated was when she was handling the needle. Needles brought back some very bad memories; it only got worse when she started the machine up.

I closed my eyes and screwed my hands into fists, holding fast to the chair as if it were my last tie to life. Just as I felt the needle touch my cheek, my nails punctured the skin of my palm, drawing blood. The only reason I didn't run out of that place and fly somewhere really, really far away, punching anyone who got in my way and causing general pandemonium, was because I had been brought up to give in to anything, instead of resist. So I sat and tolerated it, my muscles tighter than tripwires.

**Okay. So. There's chapter five. It's a little longer than the others, but not much; I'll have to work on that. **

**FYI: this girl has, like, my DREAM hairstyle. Not that I have her color, but I'm completely jealous of her. And sorry about the tattoo. I just had to. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six! Just to let you know, the only reason I'm moving so fast updating this is because I already have the beginning all written up; I just need to type it and upload it. That might end soon, so my apologies if I stop updating so often. I don't own Maximum Ride, only Ebony and her thoughts and interactions.**

**Max: Hey, you said it all by yourself this time. **

**Ryuu: …yes… I did… and?**

**Max: Someone generally has to remind you. **

**Ryuu: Nah, not anymore. I'll let someone else if they wanna, but it's become, like, my mantra.**

It was an interesting feeling. It was obviously pain, but a strange kind of pain, a little closer to hitting the funny bone in your thumb than getting cut open without Novocain. The way I'd describe it is an Eraser gently raking his claws across a very sore spot. That's what it felt like.

It was a very small tattoo, so it was over within forty minutes. The woman turned the machine off, and rubbed a slippery substance on my cheek.

"There," she said. "Just keep it fairly clean for a while, and you'll be fine." She stood back to look. I started to loosen up the slightest bit. "I was right. It does look very nice on you. Don't worry about paying for this; it was part of the free makeover. Speaking of which…"Grabbing a skinny brush and a miniscule jar of something (honestly, what could possibly fit in there?), she ordered me to close my eyes.

She rushed through makeup in fifteen minutes, then propelled me out the door with a smile and a wink, pressing a finger to her lips. I swallowed, then nodded and turned to find the flock.

Max was pacing rapidly back and forth, with everyone scattered around.

"If she's not out in five minutes, we leave," she said.

"We can leave now, if you like," Fang said to her, catching sight of me over her shoulder.

Max turned, a scowl etched on her face.

MAX'S POV

I whipped around. This girl, Ebony, was a completely unfactored, unrelated variable in the hugely complicated problem of my life. She did not belong, staying with us as long as she had. I shouldn't have given in to Fang this time, and let her stay.

That was another thing that bothered me. Fang had somehow turned into her flock spokesperson, talking to me for her. He hardly talked at all on a normal basis, and now here he was, chatting away in her favor.

My sneer deepened when I saw Ebony. That girl could not be more fluorescent if the whitecoats had injected her with active neon gas. Her hair looked like one of those chocolate Funfetti cakes, with rainbow splotches interspersed throughout it. Of course, her makeup matched.

'Because all we need is a light-up rainbow arrow telling even _more _Erasers where to find us,' I thought.

I realized that I had muttered this aloud when I felt Fang's gaze boring into me and Ebony froze mid-step.

_Be careful, Max, _the Voice chimed in. _You don't need to make any more enemies. What you most need right now is more allies._

"If I wanted your input, I would've asked," I growled. "Besides, I have all the allies I need."

FANG'S POV

I heard Max mutter something to herself. My ears caught the words, and I turned to stare at her. Max didn't generally act this way among others in desperate situations. It didn't take any stretch of imagination to see that Ebony was in a desperate situation: escaped only recently from something that was likely to be very similar to the School, now away from the only place she had lived in her entire life, with a huge world confronting her and nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Why was Max giving the girl so much trouble?

I could see a bit where she was coming from. She only wanted to protect the flock from an outsider, who may or may not have contained a tracking device. But they were probably already being tracked somehow. Angel had explained to him with her mind that Ebony meant no harm unless they harmed her; she only wanted a place where she could fit in and stay among 'others'.

Ebony had walked slowly to join the flock, her eyes trained on the floor. Now she stood, staring at her feet, next to Gazzy and Nudge.

I stood, snatched Max's arm, and dragged her a few yards away. When I came to a stop, I turned to find her eyes blazing at me in fury.

"Look," I said quietly, "if she's going to be a part of the flock, you need to calm down."

Max seethed. "What do you mean, 'part of the flock?'"

"I think we both know that she won't be able to survive if we leave her here alone. Where does she belong, if not with us? She probably has more bird genes than we do."

"Which makes her even _more_ of a mutant freak than any of us! Now explain to me the part where she stays."

"She can help us."

"We're fine on our own."

"What I mean is, the number of Erasers isn't decreasing any. If she stays, she'll fight with us. I have a feeling she would hold her own well. And the more people we have fighting, the less injuries we'd sustain overall, the less resting up we'd have to do, and the faster we could get somewhere else and move on."

Max's face grew more infuriated with every second. There was nothing better to stop one of her rants than cold, hard logic.

"Just remember later, this was your choice, not mine," she finally muttered, striding away from me.

When I followed her, Ebony looked up and caught my gaze. Her eyes told me that she had somehow heard every word. I wondered if she had been truthful about not reading minds. But from the way the warm, thankful feeling washed over me, she was grateful I had stood by her.

Ebony's POV

"What is that?" Max demanded. I tore my eyes away from Fang's merciful dark ones to look at her. She was staring frenziedly at the small star stinging my cheekbone. I couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say that, "Um, a tattoo?"

At those words, the rest of the flock edged curiously closer. I glanced quickly around in irritation. Sheesh, the weird new kid never gets any space.

"I see that," she snapped acidly. "They're not allowed to give you one."

I shrugged, lowering my head and closing my eyes. Course, thinking about it, new kids at school went through something comparatively different from what I was going through.

Max continued fuming. "Why the heck would you get one? There goes the whole inconspicuous plan; that thing is the most distinguishing feature I've ever seen. No one's ever gonna forget it."

She stopped short and gaped as Fang sauntered up, lifted my chin, and peered at my cheek, gently poking it once. From what the other kids' faces looked like, this was incredibly out of character for him.

"It's fine," he reported. "We can't fix it now, so we'll deal." Then he ambled out of the place, letting in the raucous New York noises with the opening of the door.

**Holy feckers. You know what I just noticed? can't change the fonts to anything interesting. I had all the change-of-POVs in pretty fonts according to character, but they show up as normal type. Darn. Um, you know what? I'll give you the fonts. Max's is Freestyle Script, Fang's is Matisse ITC, and Ebony's is Blackadder ITC. There. Now you can imagine that they're pretty. **

**Memo: I am a firm believer in Fax. Interpret that however you like, but I mention the fact for a reason. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys! Sorry if it took a little longer than it has, but I think you may have to get used to it. Things are going to get busy soon, so I won't be able to update as often. Anyways. Um. Chapter 7! Hm… what else… um… Linkin Park and Three Days Grace kick ass? Oh! I DON'T OWN ANY PART OF THIS EXCEPT FOR EBONY! Yay for caps lock.**

I could almost see steam blowing from Max's ears as she paused a moment then stormed after him. The rest of them took this as a cue to leave, and trailed out, markings of confusion on their faces. The shorter, pretty brown-skinned girl fell in next to me, and I glanced at her warily. She smiled up at me.

"Hi," she chattered. "My name's Nudge, an' I'm twelve. So you're Ebony, right?"

I nodded.

"I like that name. What is it? Does it mean something interesting? It's pretty and flowy and elegant. Sometimes I wish I had a name kind of like that, instead of Nudge, but I guess my name's okay. What do you think??"

I stared at her for a second. Over-talkative much? I wanted to walk away from her, because I wasn't really in a talking mood – not that I generally was – but something told me that a move like that would just give Max more reason to hate me. So I had to answer.

"Um, yeah. Your name is, uh, cool. And I think they told me that ebony was a kind of wood…"

"Really?" Her eyes went wide. "Wow! That's crazy, being named after wood. Crazy in a good way, I mean; it's awesome crazy, not loco crazy. So, hey, you know everyone else's names yet?" Before I could reply, she started pointing people out. "That's Fang, you know him. The blonde one is Max, the leader; you know her too. The tall guy's Iggy. He's great, unless you really bother him too much. Angel's the youngest, and that's her brother Gazzy. Short for Gasman. Trust me, you don't wanna know. And course, I'm Nudge," she finished with another bright smile.

"Um, okay… thanks…" I mumbled. Suddenly I realized I was wincing a bit, so I tried to cover it up with a small grin. Probably unsuccessfully.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but just then Gazzy called to her excitedly, pointing out a pair of mimes across the road. She raced off and I was walking alone again.

For about two point five seconds. All of a sudden, Angel was flouncing contentedly along beside me. I got really tense; she was the one member of the flock that I felt too uncomfortable with to want to be around. She was a telepath, a mind reader. She could casually peer into my head and see what I was thinking.

"Yep," she said in an unperturbed way, not even looking at me.

And that, right there, was _exactly _what bothered me. She knew everything, and I much preferred my privacy. There was also the tiny niggling fact that she would be mentally healthier, as a young kid, not knowing.

"I dunno about that," Angel mused, peering into a shop window.

Dang. This was the trouble with a – how old was she again?

"Six," came the reply.

I gritted my teeth. Thank you, six year old mind reader. The whole responding to my thoughts thing was definitely going to get old fast.

I waited for her to say something to that, but she never did. Instead, she skipped away to grab Max's hand.

After that, I found Fang meandering next to me. I waited for the questions to start, but they never came. He didn't say a word. Nudge had already more than made up for his lack of conversation, so I didn't try to talk. It was a little more relaxing, not having to constantly talk to someone. More stable ground for me.

Then Iggy slowed to a walk next to Fang. They put their heads together, muttering so that even I couldn't hear, especially after they fell behind me.

Nudge's POV

Iggy walked up next to me. When I thought about it, he probably didn't even know where Ebony was, because he hadn't memorized the sound of her footsteps. The sound could be some random businessman, or a homeless stalker.

Iggy inclined his head towards me. I did the same, knowing he wanted to talk to me.

"What's this girl look like?" he murmured.

I blinked and looked at a cloud. Of course. A new person would make him curious. I glanced at Ebony surreptitiously, feeling like a spy.

"Pretty enough, though I don't think she knows it," I began musingly. "Hm… face shape somewhere between oval and heart… ice blue eyes… taller than Max. What, six feet, almost? Dark blackish-brown hair, big smooth waves a little longer than her shoulders, with these cool rainbow colored splotches all over the place. You know, like a chocolate Funfetti cake? Ohmygosh, actually, I'd love one of those right now. They're so good… oh. Right. Side-swept bangs. Rainbow makeup, rainbow and black clothes… awesome outfit, really… and I'm gonna be poetic here: a little rose petal of a mouth, 'cause I can't think of another way to put it. Hmmm. Small, straight nose. Oh, no, wait, it slopes out a little. Or… hang on, does it? I can't really tell."

"Anything else?" Iggy prodded.

I screwed up my face. "No. An' if you want me to go into _anything else_ – " she emphasized those words to indicate average boys' interest, " – you can go find out yourself."

He scowled at me and went back to talk with Fang.

bEbony's POV

My first moment of true relaxation – or as much as I would ever get – came from Angel, of all people. She had managed to smuggle a small black dog named Total out of the Institute, and Max had been too preoccupied with fuming over me to notice.

Now, we trooped to Battery Park. Gazzy hovered next to me, pointing out New York sights. I smiled at him; the kid was easy to be around. He was cute, and I could genuinely like him.

The group wound up in a disregarded old band shell. "Now explain the dog," Max told Angel.

She shrugged sweetly. So innocent, it was creepy. "He's my dog," was all she had to say.

I watched with veiled interest the continuation of this argument. Fang ended up letting Angel keep the dog, claiming that she had used Bambi eyes on him. Hm. Tuck that little fact away for future use.

Max's only response to that was a roll of the eyes. Then she decided it was getting late, and we should find a place to hole up. Preferably someplace outside the city, because there were likely to be Erasers crawling all over the place due to our recent breakout.

We lifted off, heading towards the islands. Max looked at me in surprise when she saw me flying with ease. I suppose she didn't expect me to know how, which just goes to show that our experiences 'in captivity' had been wildly different. I had been taught to fly at the Institute, and taught techniques, whereas from the look on her face, she had not.

Of course, I had always been told that I should appreciate all I was taught, from culture to reading to spelling to fighting to flying. The whitecoats had always reminded me that I was lucky I was getting those teachings. I think they had been planning to send me out to do something in the world at one point in time.

Anyway. So we were all flying southwest. I noticed that any time I got near the tall boy, Iggy, he started to look antsy, so I stayed away from him. I would have stuck near Gazzy, but he was always next to Iggy, so I flew with Fang instead. This was easy, because Max was obviously avoiding him, and staying all the way up front.

Eventually, Max spotted a place to settle down for the night, a small, clear spot on Staten Island near the water. She shot down, followed by five other figures. I was last out of the air, spiraling smoothly downwards and folding my wings halfway to land gently on a tree branch. I shook them a bit, realigning the feathers, and tucked them loosely through the newly made slits in my clothes, deciding not to pull them in completely. My noisy shifting made the branch creak.

Iggy tensed, snapping his head up in my direction. "I heard something. What's up there?"

Max glared at me and tapped his shoulder. "It's Ebony."

I took this as a suggestion to get out of the tree. I leapt off the limb and swung down, landing and walking over to sit at the very edge of the flock circle.

**And, CUT. End scene. Or chapter. Whatever. **

**So, that's that. And that's most of what I had prewritten. So now it's gonna take a little longer for the chapters. Also, speaking of chapters, my other story may also have to wait a while for the next update, because I have to watch the episode again and write it up. My mom is kinda anti-computer right now, plus I have a volleyball tournament on Sunday, sooo… anyway. I'll try to get the first chapter (or fourth episode) up over the weekend. **

**Thanks for your reviews and support guys! **

**P.S. Nudge's font is Curlz MT. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Allo. Hola. Aloha. And I shut up. Let's have a round of applause everybody, for the eighth chapter! Don't own it, don't own it, don't own it. Man that's hard to type three times in a row. **

Soon enough, they were rooting through the papers from the Institute. Gazzy found his and Angel's parents, saying something about taking back being mad at them, and read Iggy's file aloud. Fang discovered his parents, and though he tried to hide it, I could see his nerves through his white, drawn face and his almost-trembling hands (almost because I think that's as close to trembling as Fang can actually get). Nudge had papers, too, but she didn't look at them with much interest, just a few quick, confused glances. The only ones who didn't have any papers or info were – you guessed it – Max and I. I hadn't expected anything about me to be anywhere in the stuff they had found; I would have things stored separately, because not only had I spent my life somewhere else, but of course they were escapees being hunted. Which would probably lead to a whole different file, if not a whole different computer or room.

Everyone else was pretty much crying by now, except of course for Fang. I didn't expect to ever see him crying, not in this lifetime, anyway. I sat quietly observing, distanced from the emotional little group. I kept an eye on Iggy (not only did my presence seem to make him uncomfortable, but I hadn't spoken to him, so he still piqued my interest), but for the most part watched Max. Something about the pitch of her voice, or the twitchy jerkiness of her smaller movements, revealed to me that we felt similarly about our situation, about the fact that we were still completely clueless regarding our origins. I know I had no real right to feel excluded, while she did, because I wasn't a part of this group, no matter how much I wanted to be. But it's pure human nature to feel that way, when you're with someone who's given something and you're given nothing. No matter how happy you feel for the person, or at least try to feel, the sweetness is always tainted by bitter jealousy. Always. Or, hey, maybe I'm just an extremely selfish person. Somehow, though, I doubted that. Judging by the fact that Max was feeling the same thing.

Eventually, she posed a question, wondering why some of the information was coded.

"Maybe it's information the whitecoats never wanted anyone to find out," Fang suggested in a creepy hollow voice that set my feathers half on end in chill.

"Like – funding," Max mused. "Or hospitals who gave them babies. Other messed-up scientists who help them. Like the keys to the whole Evil Empire."

They were partially right. It _was _other information, but from what I had picked up, it was probably specific to the test subject it was filed under. There definitely weren't any 'keys to the whole Evil Empire' hidden in there, though.

"Holy Joe!" Iggy cried, making me jump. "If we had that stuff, we could blow them wide open! We could send it to a newspaper. That fat guy could make a movie – like _Bowling for Columbine_ or something."

Fat guy? _Bowling for Columbine? _Okay, that was a pair of puzzle pieces I didn't have. His comment perked the rest of them up. Fang had a slight frown tugging at his face, and I thought back to what he had told me about revealing the whitecoats. Sure, they would no longer be a problem, but we'd become the latest exhibits in a circus sideshow.

Eventually, everyone calmed down. It had been an interesting day, and the kids were getting tired. As I watched, they huddled into a sleepy circle and stacked their fists on top of each other. Gazzy and Nudge glanced at me a few times. Fang's eyes were trained steadily in my direction the entire time, and Max pointedly ignored me. I got the feeling that this was a routine, a comfort, and accepted my exclusion. I hadn't really expected to be immediately welcomed in warmly, and I had no illusions about their wariness, either. So I settled against a medium sized, slightly mossy rock, unfolding my wings to feel the air moving through my feathers. They tapped each others' fists, then scattered and moved around me, leaving me on the edge of the group once more.

I didn't care. I was out of the Institute, free from the whitecoats, away from the tests and Erasers and pain. Well, maybe not the Erasers, or the pain, but still. I felt elated, emancipated, better than I had all my life. My eyes followed the sun as it sank below the Manhattan skyline. I heard someone shuffling around very near me, and Fang's quiet breathing as he sat on watch.

I closed my eyes and stretched out my wings, pulling the tension from the muscles. The tip of my right wing barely brushed against something, and I withdrew it a bit.

Pushing my arms up above me, I yawned silently and opened my eyes. I probably wouldn't get any sleep tonight; too… what's the word? Amazed, I guess. So I sat watching the sky darken, picking out a few of the constellations I managed to remember as the stars came into focus. I thoughtlessly trailed little circles in the loose silt with the tip of my left wing.

Then I blinked in confusion. Something was brushing against my feathers, ever so gently. I could only barely feel it. It wasn't a breeze, definitely not. The heck? Turning my head carefully to the side, I searched for the source of this crazy little sensation.

There was a hand with long, slender fingers tracing the contours of my feathers, subtly running across the overlapping surfaces. I followed the arm connected to the hand, and found Iggy. I blinked once more in surprise, watching him begin to paint a picture of this newest addition to his family with closed eyes.

I made a snap decision, and pressed my wing against his hand. The more flock members that were comfortable with me, the better, and there was no way for Iggy to get used to me unless he knew me.

His fingers flinched away, but I sent a wave of reassurance and slight encouragement towards him. After a second, he reached out again. I went back to staring at the sky, picking out the craters on the almost full moon and attempting to politely ignore the gentle touch over my feathers.

Eventually, as the sky grew closer to black, Fang rose and came over to Iggy, tapping his shoulder before wandering over to Max and stretching out on the ground. Iggy pushed himself up onto the rock I was leaning against. Better to hear with, I suppose. A second or two later I felt him plucking at my hair, running through some strands, and smiled. Five down, one to go.

A sound made me turn the next morning, awake and alert as ever with the sun shining in my face. I stretched my back out a little, and found Max and Fang waking the rest of the flock. When everyone was sitting up and staring at her with bleary eyes, she announced, "We're heading to D.C. today." No one had to ask why, based on the information they had found yesterday.

We kicked away all signs of our presence, and took off, flying (hopefully) towards answers.

**Ladies and Gentlemen: I present to you Iggy. Short, short, short! Gomen ne. Oops, that's Japanese, wrong story. Sorry! I know it's short, but guess what? DOUBLE UPDATE. For real this time. Oooo, is the first book over already? Why yes, it is. Okay. On to School's Out. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Hoorah. Chapter nine, is it? I had this typed up a long time ago, I just forgot. So, now you have it. **

**Iggy: Say it.**

**Ryuu: Do I have to? How many times do I have to go over it?**

**Iggy: Just say it.**

**Ryuu: *sigh* Fine. I don't own Maximum Ride. There. **

A stroke of my powerful, almost fifteen foot wings sent me surging upward – almost through a cloud. Ick. Glad I missed that. I've found that it's a lot less fun to wind up in a cloud than you might think, unless you're one of those people who enjoy living in a cold, foggy marsh. Again: ick.

A stray feather danced in front of my face. Hadn't felt that one come out.

I watched as Max dive-bombed through the air again, watched her face change as the wind whipped past it. Huh. Never really imagined she could be happy, not in the day or so I'd known her.

I spotted Iggy up ahead, and pumped my wings again to draw even with him, letting the tips of my feathers brush his on the downstrokes. He still needed to get used to me, but I was patient enough to help him with it. He was happy, too, up here where almost nothing could touch us. And no, jet planes don't count, because, honestly, it's dang easy to hear those things coming.

Gazzy's voice was blown my way. "Oh, my gosh! A UFO!"

I rolled my eyes. That kid was four fifths sweet, one fifth diabolically mischievous. It was about the fiftieth time he had tried to pull the trick. Once he had even mimicked my voice and replied to himself, "Do you think it'll abduct Max?" Now, _that _had very nearly got me sent plummeting toward earth with my wings tied together.

"That was funny the first fifty times, Gazzy. It's getting old," I heard Max say. He cackled, and hovered near her.

Nudge asked how long until we arrived in DC. It was probably another hour or so. She looked incredibly exhausted, but was completely holding her own, like the rest of us. God forbid anyone suddenly drop out of the sky from fatigue. Personally, I was fine, if a little tired. Endurance is one of the perks of being mutated as a young fetus.

Every once in a while I still felt the ghosts of claws, needles, electrodes, and razor wire, run coldly over my skin. It had been a little more than a day, maybe, since the flock had broken me (and a whole bunch of other little 'experiments') out of the Institute, in New York City. I had stayed with them, not only because I lacked anywhere better to go, but because I wanted to; I wanted something relatively close to a family. Of course, I wasn't fully accepted. Max still had a long way to go even accepting the idea of me, which would make life difficult for a bit, but no way was it any worse than going off on my own or, worse, staying in a cage. Besides, most of them had been nice to me so far.

Especially Fang. I appreciated Fang, and respected him immensely, because he had been the first to acknowledge me as one of them. I felt strangely close to him, completely comfortable. Maybe it was because I spoke less than even he did, or maybe because he had a personality I could easily befriend. Or, heck, maybe just because he had been nice to me. Either way, I stuck close to him as much as possible.

Max. I respected her, too, but I also feared her, to an extent, though I won't lie, there's some bemusement there, too. When it came down to it, she was the one who decided whether or not I stayed, and I wanted to stay more than anything. I also knew that, if it came right down to it and she refused to back down on her decision to kick me out, Fang would have to side with her and I would be chopped liver. I eyed the two of them, coasting ahead of me, their heads together. They made quite the pair, even if they didn't know it.

Nudge. Well, she was okay. Pretty, sweet. I didn't much like the whole 'Nudge Channel' thing so much, because, um, if I had to be socially categorized? The nice way to put it would be _anti_social. Talking just wasn't my thing, but if there was one thing Nudge was best at, it was talking. Smart kid, yeah, with interesting abilities, no doubt. But it was probably in the best interests of my sanity to take a break from chatter when I could. Course, that was where Fang came in, being all macho and silent.

Gazzy. Most adorable kid I have ever seen in my life. Which, hey, may not say much, but it was completely true. One of his talents (and hobbies) was getting on everyone's nerves by making mischief. If Nudge was good at talking, he was good at pranking. Still, it was easy to love the kid, no matter what he did.

Angel. Actually, she might tie with Gazzy for most adorable. Physically. Mentally, she terrified me, with her ability to read minds. I didn't like to be near her at all, because she could casually look into my head and read every little insignificant thought in there. And there were definitely some things that I didn't want her to go through. It felt like a complete violation of my privacy, the only real privacy I had ever had back in that cold, steel box that was the Institute.

And then, Iggy. I was curious about him. He was blind, of course, and I couldn't help but feel sympathetic, even though I knew he wouldn't want a bit of it. I had been blind for a while myself, after a test the whitecoats did on my eyes to make them appear more normal. But at least I had gotten my vision back, unchanged. Iggy hadn't spoken all that much more than Fang, since I arrived. Actually, he may have spoken less. And it was obvious I made him uncomfortable, because he had no familiarity with me whatsoever, which was hard on him. Hence the whole 'getting to know you' deal we were both subjected to. Not that I particularly minded, if it put him at ease.

We kept flying south as the sun followed it path in the sky.

---

By the time the sun had set, we were over a little trickle of water between Delaware and New Jersey.

"Look at this, kids, we're learning geography!" Fang called from a wingspan away, and I laughed at his sarcastic face. The whitecoats had attempted to catch me up on modern geography, but it wasn't really my best subject.

Turning my head to survey the rest of the flock, I saw a black fleck on the horizon. As I watched for a few seconds, I thought it seemed to be getting bigger, and debated sending Max a message about it. I was just compiling the thought when she did a 360 and spotted it herself. Double checking, I noted that it was most definitely bigger, now more of a cloud than a fleck. "Fang! What's that? Behind us, at ten o'clock."

Now Fang turned, too, and examined this growing cloud, hazarding guesses. No one seemed to know what it was, except Max, who labeled it, if vaguely, as trouble. Everyone circled around at her warning of "We've got company" and spread out a little.

"Flying monkeys?" Gazzy wondered in amusement. "Like _The Wizard of Oz_?"

The word 'flying' triggered something in my brain, dumping a wriggling ball of dread into my stomach. Winged Erasers. I'd seen the prototypes at the Institute. Horrible, awful, patchy things, that hurt your eyes to look at.

Max understood too, and ordered the gang to split up. "Erasers, version 6.5," I heard Fang comment as he flew by me. I smiled grimly. As she assigned positions, Max gave me a brief, doubtful glance, as if thinking, "Isn't this chickadee going to be a liability in a fight?" and my grim smile turned into a daunting smirk. "Ebony," she said finally, "center." I shot into place, turned in time to catch a glimpse of the Erasers before they attacked. Slobbering, ecstatic grins that revealed jagged teeth.

An Eraser hurled himself at me, snarling, and I snarled back and pretended to hurl myself at him, only to drop six feet at the last second. He glanced belatedly below, but I already had him by the ankle. Flapping hard, I turned a tight, uncoordinated circle and launched him at another wolf-man that was headed for Nudge. She saw my efforts and managed to give me a thumbs up before grappling with a third Eraser.

**Finis. And that's that. Chapter 10 comes next (no duh), so keep an eye out for that. **


	10. Chapter 10

**And here we are again. I know, I know, I haven't posted in a little while. Gomen, gomen, gomen. And sorry that I randomly speak Japanese sometimes. I've been busy and practically banned from the computer. But this makes up for it, right? Right? I don't own Maximum Ride. **

A quick 360 glance revealed no Erasers that weren't being pummeled. Strange, I thought, flapping in place, there should be more of them. Then a laugh from above me made me whip my head up. I found a pair of grinning Erasers dropping down towards me, too close to avoid. They landed right on my wings, close to where they met my back, and I shrieked for a second before clamping my mouth shut. Pain coursed through my body from my shoulders, beat in my veins with my blood. I was falling fast, weighted down by two hairy half wolves, and the air rushed past my face. The Erasers grabbed my arms, laughing and dislodging from my momentarily useless wings. I saw red for a moment when I bit into my tongue and tasted blood, and then was filled with a cold fury.

Using every ounce of strength, and ignoring the screaming protests of my muscles, I yanked my arms together in front of me, enjoying the sight of two Erasers colliding face first. They fell away, howling, and I tested my wings. They hurt incredibly, but worked, so I surged back fifty feet upward to return to the fray.

First thing I did when I got back was knock an Eraser flying, hitting him at high speed from underneath. I found myself face to face with Max, who gave me a surprised look and stopped her fist inches from my nose. She grudgingly nodded thanks as I whipped around and caught another Eraser in the side with my heel.

A minute or so later, I vaguely heard Iggy's voice, close behind me. An Eraser hurtled past me, trying to regain control, scrabbling at his shirt. I had time to think, "What the?" before the Eraser exploded, and I was knocked backwards. Into Iggy. His hands encircled my skinny arms, ready to tear another wolf-man apart, but then I guess he realized I wasn't covered with fur, and he let me go. "You should probably know, Ebony," he told me, "next time I give a warning of any sort, it's probably a good idea to duck." He stashes bombs? And Max approves? I nodded, said "Thanks," and dodged an Eraser that barreled past.

"You… are… a… fridge… with wings… we're… freaking… ballet dancers," I heard Fang growl. I almost laughed out loud (Fang? Ballet dancer?), which would have been bad, considering the circumstances.

Suddenly I felt the rake of claws across the back of my neck, and I turned, angrier than ever. My reward was another scratch, right across the cheek and just missing my eye. An Eraser leered in front of me, ready to deal a punch, but I zipped in and locked my hands around his throat. He struggled in surprise, and forgot to flap once, making us fall a couple feet. I ignored his efforts to extricate me, the claws scoring my arms, and tightened my grip. "You think you're so hot," I hissed, "now that you can fly. Yes, go ahead, dog boy, taunt the little kitties. Well, guess what." I dug my long, sharp nails into his neck, and felt one puncture an artery. The Eraser looked at me with a glimmer of true fear in his eyes. "This kitten has claws, too." With that, I yanked my arms across each other, slitting his throat wide open. He spiraled downwards, gurgling helplessly.

"That was kind of really scary," I heard Fang say, and I turned to see him looking at me strangely. I shrugged sheepishly, then a movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I heard Max shout, "Fang!" A snarling ball of fur and claws flew past me, carrying Fang with him: Ari. I turned fast, to see Fang push him away. Ari swiped at Fang.

My gaze flicked around erratically, making sure there wasn't a relief force of Erasers coming down on us. I caught my breath, seeing Ari was the last one. He seemed to notice it, too, and retreated with the few remaining Erasers. "We'll be back," he said menacingly, then flew off lopsidedly.

"Boy, you just can't kill someone like you used to," commented Fang. There was a note of tension in his voice. I glanced at Max in surprise; I didn't know she had killed Ari in the sewers.

We lingered for a little while, checking out our injuries. Fang was most definitely hurt by Ari's final assault, but didn't give anything away, simply answering, "I'm fine," to Max's look. Angel was completely fine, Gazzy just had a minor leg bruise or something, Nudge just still seemed extremely tired, and Iggy had a bloody nose. When Max's gaze fell on me, I answered, "Um, cuts. A lot of 'em." My hand was pressed to my bloody cheek, and I felt more blood trickling down my back from my neck, emphasizing my point. "But that's it, so I'm fine."

"Okay, then," she summed up, "we're almost to D.C., and it should be easy to get lost in another big city. We good to go?" There were nods, and we banked around and headed south again.

The others started hypothesizing about the winged Erasers, but Fang stayed silent. His face was strained and a little on the gray side, so I stayed with him, talking a little and trying to send him health and feelings of wellness. But he kept ebbing lower and lower, and I began to worry.

Max's POV

I was talking with Iggy, Gazzy, Nudge and Angel when I realized that Fang and Ebony weren't with us. I looked back and found them, maybe twenty feet below. Ebony was shooting worried glances at him, and her brow was furrowed as if in concentration. She was as close to him as she could possibly be in the air, nestled halfway above him and out of range of his wings. Fang's flying was ragged, off-balance, and his face ashen. I swooped back toward them, and asked him, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," came his reply, but his voice was tight and came through clenched teeth. Ebony turned away from him to look at me, a little panicky, and showed me her hand. It was dark red, covered in blood.

"Your arm!" I gasped.

"'S not my arm," he managed to get out, before his eyes fluttered shut. He fell down and away, losing altitude fast.

_Really_ fast.

Ebony's POV

Fang dropped out from beneath me, his wings crumpling weakly. Max and I dove after him after a second of staring stupidly in disbelief. Fear rippled through me like freezing water, as I managed to haul Fang's bloody arm over my shoulder. Max did the same on his other side, and we flew awkwardly up a few dozen feet, trying to avoid smashing our wings together.

"Max?" Iggy's alarmed voice called. I looked up. He was flying toward us. "What's wrong?"

"It's Fang," she told him stiffly. She turned to me. "We should land and see what's wrong." I nodded, my mind shut down and my body on autopilot.

The five of us headed to a shoreline as fast as we could, and landed haphazardly. Nudge and Iggy helped us drag Fang's limp body to a flat stretch of sand.

"What's wrong?" Nudge asked, her voice high pitched. I saw how much blood Fang was covered in, and tried to stop my hands from shaking.

"Let's just see what we're dealing with here," Max said. I admired how she kept her voice so calm.

My head lowered, eyes trained on Fang, I muttered to her. "His side… it's torn up. Completely ripped apart. I think it was when Ari…" I couldn't finish the sentence. She pulled his shirt away, and turned pale at the damage. Nudge gasped.

Immediately, Max gave out orders to the younger kids, and they moved away, stunned. Iggy's fingers drifted gently over the gaping wounds, and he said, "This feels bad. Real bad. How much blood has he lost?"

"A lot."

"Jus' a scratch," came Fang's weak voice, his eyes half open and vacant. I looked at him in surprise.

"Why didn't you tell us you were hurt?" Max hissed, then glared at me. "And you! You knew. Why didn't _you _say something?"

"I-I… I was trying to… to help him…" I stuttered faintly, staring emptily ahead. Then I shook my head. "I'm sorry. We can lay blame later. Right now, we can't waste time." She stared angrily at me for another second, then turned away, asking for the cloth strips. Folding them quickly into a pad, which she then pressed down across the wounds, she looked almost helpless, trying to stand in the way of death.

I heard footsteps crunching on the sand at the same time Iggy did, and snapped my head up. It was a man, off on his morning jog. "Kids, you okay?" I felt Fang's blood seeping through the knees of my jeans. _No, sir, nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. _Suddenly, the man got what was happening, yanked out his cell phone, and dialed 911.

Max was about to open her mouth and protest, then turned and looked at all of us.

"We need help," I told her softly, probably speaking her thoughts. "We can't pull through this alone, or we'll lose Fang." She nodded, forgetting to glare at me in the rush of events, looking pained.

There was a bit of an argument between Max and the younger kids which kind of surprised me, though it really shouldn't have. Then the EMTs showed up, with an ambulance and a stretcher and everything.

"What happened here?" asked a paramedic incredulously.

"Accident," came the reply.

"Accident? With what, a rabid bear?"

Close enough, I thought.

**Epic fight scene! And that's that for chapter 10. I promise 11 will be up in a bit, and I'll get to work on my Soul Eater one as well, though that might take a little longer. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Short chapter. Hey, I updated. This is it for my pre-written stuff, so… yeah. Enjoy, guys. I don't own Maximum Ride. That's Fang.**

**Fang: *glare* **

Everyone piled into the ambulance. We barely fit, and you could tell the paramedics weren't happy having so many people back there, but if it was possible to get one of us out of that vehicle, I would've been shocked. A few moments passed when the hospital guys thought Fang was fibrillating, but Max reassured them tersely that a fast heartbeat was normal. There was some confusion and tension, because we all knew that no matter what happened to Fang, we were dangerously close to revealing ourselves. Then the ambulance arrived at the hospital and everything just dissolved into chaos for a long, long time.

I wondered what Max would say after the nurse asked how she was related to Fang. When she said, "He's my brother," the woman looked so confused, it was almost comical. I was the only one among us who looked remotely like Fang, even though the only trait we shared was the dark hair, but then Max came up with a brilliant lie about our parents being missionaries who adopted us.

Heck, I thought dryly, I wouldn't care if my parents were agents of the devil, so long as I had parents.

A few minutes later, Max followed a doctor through heavy double doors down the hall to Fang. There was a crack between the doors, and a space underneath them, and I held my breath, listening hard. Iggy, beside me, was tense, doing the same.

It wasn't easy, but I picked up enough to know that we were pretty much screwed, as far as keeping undercover went. I actually let out a little squeak when one of the doctors asked, "Are you… like him?" and Iggy turned his head toward me in surprise.

When I'd heard as much of the conversation as I could, a nurse approached us and offered to clean up any injuries we had. Considering the young kids were fine, and Iggy's nose had stopped bleeding, I submitted, ignoring the sting of the rubbing alcohol on my exposed flesh. She then led the five of us down a hall into a room. Iggy froze for a second when he walked in, and I bumped into his back. I peered around him to find three people who definitely looked like they were from the government. Short hair, dark suits, the works. They were sitting at a big table with five trays filled with hot, delicious looking food.

I sat stiffly between Iggy and Gazzy, my fingers brushing both their shoulders once, on the edge of my seat, not even looking at the tray, instead staring coldly into the woman's eyes.

Soon Max appeared, looking very out of sorts, to say the least. She asked the suits who they were, which is how we found out that we were graced by the presence of the FBI.

The agents apparently realized we weren't eating the food in front of us, and guessed the reasons behind it. They sampled each of our trays, and as soon as Gazzy was positive it was safe (there was an awkward moment when we all stared suspiciously at the adults, waiting for them to keel over gagging), he dug in ravenously. Everyone followed his example, though not with quite as much energy, except me. I was too strung out to be hungry, despite my excessive need for calories, and only picked at the food.

After everyone had eaten as much as they possibly could, we were separated and placed at different conference tables, each with an agent sitting ramrod straight across from us. They asked us our names, and our ages, and a bunch of other questions about Itex and the School and a man called Jeb Batchelder, whom I had heard of before but never seen.

In the pause after my agent asked my name, I heard Gazzy introduce himself as Captain Terror, and had to smile. I understood that it was safer not to give out real information, and responded to the man's question with "Kaelynn." Who knows where that came from. Then, apparently not satisfied enough for the paper on the table in front of him, he pressed on with the interrogation.

Once he showed me a blurry picture of an Eraser, and I fought bile in the back of my throat, cringing away appropriately and saying, "Oh, gosh, that is the ugliest thing I've ever seen. I _hope _I never run into one." I guess I was convincing enough in my lie, because he blinked a few times, then looked at his paper again and continued.

Eventually I was released, and walked back over to my 'siblings', sitting gingerly next to Nudge. For once she didn't talk, and I relaxed just a little bit. Max was still conversing with her agent, and it looked like her temper was beginning to rise, though she kept it in check. Then a new blonde woman walked in and took over.

I listened to the conversation with interest. So, apparently she was 'one of Them', and the one people called when things went kablooey. I smiled softly. Yeah, kablooey was a good term for it, if a little indistinct. And apparently, she understood exactly what we were, though she put it in a nicer term.

The two talked for a while longer, and I started to lose interest. Just another FBI woman trying to pry out information about us. I wondered who really had the upper hand, her or Max. It was a tough call.

Suddenly, I caught the offer she made. Stay somewhere safe, while Fang could get better? Oh, God, tempting. I listened more closely, trying to figure out where this place was. Maybe we could reject her offer, then sneak there to stay.

I blinked with surprise and sat back heavily when she said, "My house."

Later, we were all standing in the waiting room, except for Max, who had gone with the blonde woman, Anne, to confer with the doctors about Fang. Everyone was tense, anxious: would we lose one of our flock?

Max came back, and the smile she had on sent a wave of relief washing through us. Good, he'd be okay. Iggy asked if we could see him.

"Ig, I hate to break this to you, but you're blind." Max's joking was evidence that she was returning to normal. Or, well, as normal as any of us could get. "However, in a little while you can go listen to him breathe and _maybe _talk to him."

Anne approached us and explained about how we'd be staying at her house while Fang (or Nick) rested up. I nodded, and Angel confirmed that Total was coming with us. I wondered how Anne would react to a talking dog. Not that anyone but me really knew he could talk. Yet. It was just a matter of time before the joker popped out of the box.

There was a small squabble about when we would go to Anne's house. No one wanted to leave Fang here alone (technically, not alone, because Anne promised that he would have a pair of FBI agents guarding him. Yeah, right.).

"But – Nick can't be moved," Anne pointed out. "Were you planning to just hang out in his room?"

Pretty much.

That night, everyone filed into Fang's room. He was awake now, by the loosest terms of the word, so we didn't have to be extraordinarily quiet. There was another empty bed in the room, which meant that Angel and Gazzy would be getting a very good night's sleep. Not that Gazzy wanted to accept that; he tried to convince us that 'the girls can have the bed'. Oh, yes, we're all going to fit in that one little hospital bed. All four of us. Talk about a good night's sleep.

**Again, sorry for the short chapter. It's also an abrupt ending, but it's all I have at the moment. I'll try to update soon. **


	12. Teaser!

**Here's the other teaser, guys! It's so much fun writing random stuff, but then it pisses me off when I can't post it. Well, I will post it. Just, later. Lots later. I can't post it now; I have to catch up. Find time to catch up. **

**Let's hear it for Fang, ladies and gentlemen!**

Her mouth moved, shaping my name, but no voice came out of it, the sound instead resonating hollowly inside my head. "Fang." The voice was undeniably hers, but different than I had ever heard it: dazed, weary, either awed or gently stunned at my presence, at my sudden appearance in her personal h-e-double hockey sticks.

"What did you – what happened?"

She just shook her head, her wide eyes never leaving my face.

I reached out to rest my hand on her shoulder, but the action caused her shaking to increase violently. She pulled away from me, and in my head moaned, "No, no, Fang, it hurts. Too rough; not gentle enough. Everything hurts." My brain raced wildly around in circles, screaming and trying to figure out what the heck she meant. Then I got it.

"I'm sorry. He's not here."

She stared up at me helplessly, pleadingly. Reached haltingly for my hand. Changed course, brought both hands up to the sides of my face, traced the contours lightly. "Fang. Fang. Fang." I heard the unspoken plea in my name: _help_. Oh, God, I had to get out of here, wanted nothing more than to get out of here.

Instead I said, quite idiotically, "Yes." Her tears were still cascading ceaselessly, unnoticed, down her face.

A mash of pictures and feelings settled in my head, and I sifted through them. All of him. Every single thing was laced with the concept, "It was my fault. I wasn't good enough."

"No," I told her immediately, "you have nothing to do with it." She blinked, for the first time since I'd come in.

She just stared uncomprehendingly. Her hands fell away limply. She turned her head to the side, moving her gaze to the far wall. I looked where she did, and felt something cold creep under my skin. Blood was smeared over the wall, in no particular pattern. It wasn't much, but it still worried me. I looked back at her. She just gazed blankly at the blood, no emotions surfacing. Then she turned back to me, and seemed to see me there again. I heard my name in my head once more, and realized she was unknowingly creating a déjà vu. "My fault" spun around my mind. I grabbed her shoulders, ignoring her shudder and silent scream of pain, and told her, "No, it is not your fault. Stop it."

The flow of tears increased substantially, and she appeared to come halfway out of her reverie. Her hands fluttered up to cup my face again, then sagged down to rest on my shoulders. I felt the sharp points of her nails press gently against my skin. "Fang, Fang, Fang, please, Fang." This time it wasn't in my head; she was actually speaking, and her voice broke weakly.

She closed her eyes tightly, pulled herself close to me, trembling hard, harder, quaking violently. I sat stiffly, the way I generally do when I come in physical contact with people, unsure of what to do in this situation that wasn't really the best place for me to be. Awkwardly, I stroked her shoulder, trying to ignore the tremors that were radiating from her to me. My shoulder was drenched in seconds. I had no idea how I was going to get out of this room without hurting her more; I wasn't even sure if it was a good idea to leave her here alone again. So I went for the abrupt direct approach.

Disentangling myself from her wraith-like arms, I looked at her again. "Look, I need to go. If I don't, well… it'll be a really messed up situation. I'll come back later, if you want."

She could only stare at me incomprehensibly, disbelievingly. I walked out of her room, closed the door behind me. The last I saw of her, she had collapsed limply back onto her bed, wings half folded, arms thrown out, staring blankly at the ceiling, looking like a fallen angel. I locked the door behind me.

**Hooray for Fang dealing with teen angst! Or, then again, maybe not. What is going ON here, anyways? O.o I suppose we'll wait to find out. More correctly, you'll wait to find out. Review or PM, if you've a mind to! (what did I just say???!!) **


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